Sleeping Sickness
by FragilePuzzle
Summary: They always said he was beautiful. Mello-centric. Oneshot.


**A/N: **Well, I uploaded this on my other account but... -shrugs- XD I figured I'd put it on here for you guys to read as well. So I deleted it from there and put it on here. I wrote it a while ago, though, so no judge-y for its crappyness. o-o;; (BTW... my other account is/was StarsplashToploader. )

* * *

L was on the floor, convulsing in pain, a silent scream passing his emotionless lips. Then they went pale, paler than the rest of his skin, his onyx black eyes that Mello had stared into only on occasion rolling back into his head. A shadowed figure walked to him and pulled his limp body into his arms, only a gleaming smile to be seen on his features. Kira. Kira killed L, Kira was going to kill him too.

Mello tossed and turned in his slightly creaky bed, the cement walls of his room in the underground mafia base causing his breathy pants to echo back into his ears. His bare legs stuck out from underneath the covers, and his bangs were pasted to his forehead with a terrified sweat, one of his hands gripping at his pillowcase until knuckles turned whiter than the linen they clung to.

"N-no... K... Kira..."

The blonde shot up in bed, clutching to his chest, blue eyes flickering madly across the room. Slowly, he calmed, beginning to take deep breaths. _"Just a dream. Just a dream. Kira doesn't know your face. He doesn't know you, Mihael..." _Without another word, the mafioso angrily flopped back down, burying his face in the damp sheets. They smelled like him, the fabric sticking to his sweaty skin as he tried to get himself comfortable once again.

Mello's gaze flickered over to the alarm clock, the neon red showing that it was only three-thirteen in the morning. As tired as he was, he was sick of these nightmares. He didn't want to sleep anymore, not when they haunted his every thought.

Without another thought of the matter, Mello forced his tired body up and off the mattress, bare feet shuffling along the undecorated floor. A shaky hand raised to rub sleep out of his eyes, the other groping the closet door in search of the knob. As soon as slender fingers found the rounded object, they tugged it open - he had some dignity, he wasn't going to go walking around the base in boxers.

Slowly, he reached down and grabbed a pair of plain black jeans and a matching plain black shirt. He normally wore his leathers, but he knew nobody would be up this early. The party from the night before had died down, and most everybody else would be sleeping until noon that day, at least.

Mello stared down at the clothing before deciding to strip of his boxers. He didn't like the way the material clung to him. While he almost wanted to take a shower, he knew that he'd rather be in the shooting range. That was how he coped with these nightmares... he didn't know how else he could release the anger besides shooting things. _"Damn, if there's one good thing about the mafia, that's probably it. Other than the cover-up they provide, anyways..."_

The blonde's gaze flickered over to the mirror, his fingertips just barely brushing his torso as he shuffled over to the smudged glass. Blue orbs traced over his frame, eyeing every perfection in his reflection. Though he had just woken up, a simple run-through of a brush fixed his glistening hair, the silken strands falling around his cheeks and framing his jaw. A bob cut had been his haircut of choice ever since he was taken Wammy's. He remembered that his dad cut it off when he was three, claiming it was too 'faggy.' However, his mom had always liked it. _"Can't believe I had that crop... those are hideous."_

Mello's hands moved down to his torso, running up and down his flat stomach. Lightly toned abs peeked out through smooth, sun-kissed skin which rippled and flowed like milk with his movements. Petal-pink lips parted with the softest intake of breath as cool digits ran over a sensitive patch of skin, a small shiver rolling up the male's spine only milliseconds later. Eventually, his palms ran down his thighs and up his backside, giving the tender flesh a soft squeeze before allowing his hands to drift up his arms and to his neck.

Mello gently lifted his hair away from his neck, turning this way and that to observe the way the tendons would press against his skin as he turned. Closing his eyes before reopening them, he made eye contact with himself, his sharp facial features upturning in a smirk as he thought he same thing repeatedly. _"I'm not half-bad looking. A lot better than Near." _

Tugging on his clothes, the blonde immediately snatched up his gun from the nightstand as he walked out of his bedroom, gently closing the wooden door behind him. All that was heard was the soft rustle of clothing and the quiet smack of bare feet against the ground. That was the day it all came crashing down.

"Mels? Mello?"

The voice was oh-so-familiar, yet Mello couldn't seem to place it. All he could do was groan and try to turn on his side. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to be left alone-

-The blonde let out a howl of pain, his voice dry and cracked, immediately trying to move his arms to clutch at his head. However, he found only more pain, his very skin feeling as though it were on fire. He'd never felt like this before. Not pain. Not pain like this. Every broken bone he'd gotten falling out of a tree or doing some dumbass stunt with Matt didn't seem as though they could compare.

"Mels! Hold still!"

"Fuck... fuck..." he whispered, wondering why his voice was so scratchy. Wanting to swallow, Mello found he couldn't figure out how to work his throat muscles. It was as though he didn't remember. He tried to turn his head to tell the other person this, but he felt heavy cotton bandages preventing him from doing so. They ran up the side of his neck and covered the left half of his face, as well as his forehead. The white material ran around his head numerous times, as though he had gotten a concussion. He wondered what had happened. He couldn't remember anything.

"Mels... jeezus... w... what the hell have you been _doing_ since you left?"

Mello cracked open the blue eye that wasn't covered by bandages, his sight blurry. All he could see was a ball of red and a striped mess. After blinking a few times, the male could begin to focus what he was seeing. The red ball was actually hair that looked as though it hadn't been brushed in days, held back by what seemed a pair of swimming goggles. The stripes were those of a shirt, black and white, forcing him to close his eyes for a few moments before realizing it was him.

Matt.

"'atty... w... what... uck... d-doing here?"

"Don't try and talk, dumbass. And I'm here because you called me here, why else would I be here? I flew from England, I mean, Christ!"

"I didn't call you." The blonde finally figured out which muscles he used to swallow, allowing his voice to become clearer and stronger. The voice he was so used to. "Why the fuck would I call you?"

"Mello, you-"

"Shut up," rasped the male, slowly pushing himself up, despite the pain. He ignored the weak and scrawny hand on his chest, smacking it away with the arm that wasn't bandaged. As he cradled the other to his chest, he found that his legs were injured as well. The further he looked, the more bandages he seemed to notice. White was winding its way up his left arm, neck, face, but it didn't stop there - it continued down to his groin, left leg, and a bit of his right hip.

Though it hurt like hell to try and move, he pushed through the pain and stood completely. Eyes immediately focused on his prized gun, which was resting on the nightstand next to the cheap bed he'd been lying in. Without a second thought, he swept it up into his hand, pointing it at his best friend. _"I don't see how he can still be my best friend. I haven't talked to him in years. I ditched him. Is it pathetic that I still want him to be... the way he used to? Always following me around, telling me I was the best... telling me to fuck Near, fuck Kira, just fuck whoever got in my way. Matty..."_

"Mels... you can't get up. You're hurt really badly."

"I'm fuckin' fine."

Mello couldn't remember what had happened for the life of him. No matter how hard he tried, it was as though his memory had cut off. The last thing he could remember was going to sleep the night after he'd woken with the terrible dream and gone to the shooting range. That day had been uneventful. Maybe something happened in his sleep...?

_M-I-H-A-E-L K-E-E-H-L._

His real name. He remembered that being spelled out. _"Kira." _As soon as the thought drifted into his mind, he dismissed it. He couldn't have been seen by Kira. He wasn't dead, so he must not have gone anywhere near the killer. He was safe, he must have been.

Ignoring Matt, Mello hobbled over to the door without another word, keeping the gun trained on the redhead. It was as though the gamer's words didn't even brush his ears. He blocked them out. He felt too guilty. Matt was trying to take care of him, despite all the things he'd done. Besides, he couldn't stand 'being taken care of.' It sounded like something a weak, pitiful person would need. He didn't need it. He was Mello, for fuck's sake.

Scolding himself on his uncreative use of internal swear words, the blonde quickly moved out the front apartment door, the gun still pointing back towards the general direction of his faithful puppy. However, Matt didn't come out after him. It was almost as if Mello, slamming the door shut behind him, was a promise to get out and stay out of Matt's life. He couldn't remember calling the redhead, and he didn't want to. _"Came from England? What's all that crap?"_

Within the minute, Mello had exited the old, worn-down motel. Hm. From the inside, he almost thought it was an apartment. Where was he, anyways? He had to get back to the base... he'd get his ass told off if he wasn't there for his daily instructions. But first, to see about these damn injuries.

Mello arrived on a crowded, busy street as soon as he turned out of the alley the motel had chose as its resting place. Immediately, he got strange looks from people. They would glance away from the cement to stare at him, their eyes slicing through his skin - and then they would simply turn away, going back to their conversation on their cell phone. Completing their daily rituals as though he were nothing more than some demented hobo in the street.

A few steps later, Mello found himself face-to-face with a store window. At first, he didn't recognize his own reflection. _"Who's that freak in the bandages?" _And that was when it hit him. Raising an arm, he saw that the reflection did the same. It was him.

He couldn't breathe. It was as though he were drowning in the mere fact that he was looking at himself. No. This wasn't Mello. This wasn't happening.

Blonde hair no longer fell around his face in the smooth bob it once had. It was choppy and singed, and half of it looked as though somebody had cut it away with a pair of scissors. Sloppily. An angry scream rose in his chest as he dropped his gun on the sidewalk, pressing himself closer to the glass of the window. What little skin wasn't covered by bandages was scraped and bruised, the ugly combination of green, yellow, purple, and red causing him to cringe.

_"What's under the bandages? Can't be much worse than this..."_

Oh god. If only he knew how wrong he was. Cotton fluttered around his still frame as he undid the safety pin that held the wrap to his head, exposing the melted, seared flesh underneath. Before Mello knew what he was doing, he found his good arm halfway through the now-broken window, shards of glass sticking through his flesh. A scream passed his lips, one not of pain, but of mere agony. His beauty was gone.

The red, bloody flesh traveled along every spot on his body that had been covered by bandages. His sharp eyebrows were gone, hidden underneath deformed lumps. Not even his bangs were there to hide any of he horror, having been chopped off as well. Without another word, he leaned down and swept up his precious weapon, retreating back into the dark of the alley. Despite how much sun was out that day, none shone in between the brick walls of the two buildings. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was that. Light shouldn't shine on him anymore. He was a monster.

There was no more anger in his gait as he moved back to the motel. Ignoring the shady-looking woman at the front desk, he simply stumbled back to what he remembered to be Matt's room. It was room 126. Without knocking, the male burst in, nearly screaming once again. However, his anger was interrupted as memories flooded back to him.

"M... Matty..."

"... y... your face..."

This time, the blonde wasn't angry. The fact that the first thing Matt noticed about him was his face - no, it didn't irritate him. It didn't cause his fuse to light, or his knot to snap. Instead, shaky tears immediately welled to blue eyes, the one hidden under melted flesh only stinging and remaining closed.

"I'm a monster," he whispered, one of his hands clenching into a fist, causing blood to well up around the pieces of glass that were wedged in the skin. "M... monster..."

"No, Mels, let's just get you back in bed," offered Matt, standing from the small dining room table in the one-room motel to walk over to the blonde.

"I… I'm a monster. I look like a monster. My face. My face…" Slapping Matt away for the second time, the blonde immediately stripped out of the boxers and wife-beater he'd been wearing. "_Matt was probably too embarrassed to see me without clothes. Tch."_

The male immediately walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and clicking the thumb-turn lock into place a moment later. Now… now he couldn't stand the idea of anybody seeing him.

Though Mello knew it was probably a stupid idea to take his bandages off, that was the last thing on his miind as he littered the bathroom floor with cotton and cloth. Horror was the only thing present in his eyes as his naked body was exposed. Burns not only covered his face, neck, shoulder, and chest - they also decorated his back, wrapped themselves around his waist like a belt, and graced his groin and inner thigh.

The male's thoughts flashes back to his reflection in the mirror before this had happened. His eyes flickered again, a weak cry slipping past his lips.

"No..."

Closing blue orbs, Mello's body began to shake. He wanted to scream, but he was too weak. Tears began to flow down his cheeks as he pressed his palms against the shiny reflection of the mirror, desperately wanting it to just disappear. As he looked at his hands, he saw that they were burnt and mutilated too.

"Mello? Mihael! Open the fucking door!"

Mello was too defeated to fight against Matt's demanding tone, so he walked over to the door and slowly opened it. He immediately shied away from the younger male, not because he was naked, but simply because he found himself to be just as much a monster as he was on the inside on the outside.

"Fuck... M-Mels, I-"

"I'm hideous!" he suddenly screamed, his voice splitting Matt's apology in half. "Why'd you let me live? I should be dead! Nobody - no _human _is meant to look like this!"

"Mels... we need to bandage you up again." The way Matt's eyes slipped to the floor told Mello that his own views of himself were true. It was as though Matt was scared of him. He was so ugly, he scared Matt.

"What happened? Exactly, Mail. I want to know exactly what happened."

The look in Mello's un-burnt eye told Matt that he might have sounded threatening, but he was internally more scared than Matt had ever seen him. Realizing this, the redhead decided to take mercy and simply tell Mello.

"The mafia base... you blew it up after the police dropped by for a visit." Matt felt himself becoming slightly angry, however, the more he spoke. His best friend and secret crush since he was seven had betrayed him in so many ways. First, the blonde had run away... and now he suddenly popped back into the redhead's life without a fair warning. With Mello, a fair warning was the least you could ask for. "You called me. Said you needed somebody. I found you in a motel not too far from the base. You were just bleeding all over the floor... pretty fuckin' unbelievable that you were still alive."

Matt almost considered asking for the few hundred dollars Mello owed him for the plane ticket and the fact that he'd have to pay for the room the nearly-unconscious blonde had borrowed - but he knew that now probably wasn't the time.

"Kira. Kira probably saw my face. Or what's left of it."

"Mells, if Kira saw you, you'd be dead." Green orbs couldn't help themselves as they began to roam his friend's body, using one of his dexterous hands to grab onto Mello's unharmed skin and lead him over to the bed. But Mello's skin... it was what scared Matt. Not the fact that it was burned, no, the only thing that bothered him about that was how much pain he must be in - and yet he still managed to be a stubborn ass. No, the thing that bothered Matt was that Mello would have been unrecognizable to him if he saw him out on the street. His skin wasn't at all what it used to be. Every part of Mello used to be so utterly perfect. Matt wasn't his normal intimidated self, not around Mello, not anymore. No, that was completely gone. Mello didn't radiate power and beauty anymore, not that the redhead could tell.

Blinking a few times, the gamer noticed that even the flesh of the male's manhood had been caressed by the scarring inferno of the explosion.

"Hey... what happened to my hair?" Mello asked quietly, allowing Matt to sit him down on the edge of the bed. A single blue eye moved to look up at his crookedly-cut bangs that clung messily to his sweat-shined forehead, shaking his head to get them away from the skin.

"Well... your forehead got burnt and so did your neck and face, so I had to cut them out of the way. On the other side," Matt touched the uninjured half of the male's face before continuing his sentence. "The hair is short on this side because it got burnt off."

Mello paused, looking down at his lap, not wanting to meet eyes with the other. His fingers slowly traced over the blistered flesh, hissing in soft pain.

"Cover them up. Please."

Matt didn't think he'd ever heard Mello tell him to do something and add a "please" at the end. It was odd.

"I don't have any more bandages. I'll go down to the store and get some real quick... stay here, okay? Don't... don't disappear on me again."

Mello nodded, and without another word, the redhead turned on his heel and exited the small room, shutting the door softly behind him.

As soon as he saw that Matt was gone, the blonde laid back onto the bed, his muscles tightening as pain shot up his every nerve. He shifted against the mattress and settled his head back against the flat pillows. No more constant thoughts and questions buzzing through his head, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. _"It's all just a dream..."_

Mello opened his eyes to awake in his bed. The first thing he did was look down at his body, seeing that it was no longer bandaged nor burned. A smile broke out onto his face as he hopped up out of his bed, realizing he was in his cement room back at the mafia base. Where he belonged - all of his possessions were in place, and everything was perfectly normal again.

"God... it was all a dream," he chuckled, immediately running over to the mirror and observing his once-again perfect reflection. "Thank God. What a fucking nightmare."

Mello closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, letting out an exhale of relief. A whisper in his ear caused them to snap open in sudden terror.

"Mihael Keehl. I am Kira."

The blonde immediately looked up, blue orbs wavering as they slipped to the mirror in front of him. He could see a blackened, shrouded figure standing behind him. A glistening smile lit up with malice as Mello let out a pitiful scream, beginning to grope along the surface of his wooden vanity in search of his gun. However, what he found caused another, louder scream to emit from his throat. L's decapitated head laid in front of him, onyx eyes opened wide, lips parted as though they wanted to take in a breath but simply couldn't.

"You can't kill me, Mello. L couldn't. Nobody can stop me, and you're just a pitiful child. Second-place... second-rate... I'll kill you, Mihael. I'll put you out of your misery of being eternally second. I'll kill you, and everybody you've ever known. _I'm Kira."_

Mello screamed yet again, searching for something, _anything_. It was as though his legs were made of lead, he couldn't move, not to defend himself, nor to try and run. He was forced to watch helplessly as Kira lit a match and dropped it, the room bursting into a terrifying blaze in less than a second. Orange and blue licked at his skin, his reflection showing as the heat melted and seared his flesh, tanned skin quickly becoming a bloody red. Faintly he could hear his own screams, but the only thing he could focus on was the way he was burning. The way his beauty was disappearing.

"This is what happens to second place cheaters, Mihael. This is what happens to those who try and take what they don't deserve. They die, Mihael."

"MELLO!"

Mello's blue eyes shot open as his continual scream cracked and broke. Matt was standing over him, goggles pushed up onto his forehead, worry in his eyes.

"Jeezus, what the hell is wrong? You were just screaming and screaming, a-and-"

Remaining silent, the blonde found himself to be bandaged again, cheap cotton sheets pulled up over his overheated frame. The male couldn't seem to muster up the energy to push them off himself, however, so he remained still. There were a few moments of silence before Mello spoke. Voice quiet and raspy from its recent vocalization, he finally made eye contact with the redhead.

"Kira. We have to defeat Kira." There was no uncertainty in his words as a small white figure flashed through the blonde's mind, a slender finger protruding from a petite hand attached by a thin wrist to a bony arm. "We have to defeat Kira before Near."

Matt nodded slowly. It was no surprise that Near was on Mello's mind. That was how it had always been, and probably always would be.

"Right..."

Mello's head lay against the steering wheel of the truck he'd been driving only minutes ago, his long-scarred flesh rubbing against the leather cover of the directive mechanism. Blue eyes remained wide open, though they were blank and empty, only flickering once before falling still

_"I took Kira down. For you, L. Matt. Even you, Near. It's all up to you now... Nate."_

The painful constrictions in Mello's chest stopped and he fell completely limp as his soul slipped easily out of his body. The ghostly apparition remained to watch as his body was consumed by the very thing he had been so terrified of since the accident. That hot, burning agony that even the worst sinners did not deserve to be susceptible to on the lowest levels of hell. But now, he was no longer scared. It was as though the fire couldn't hurt him.

Reaching to his chest and delicately taking the cross of his rosary between his fingers, the male pressed a soft kiss to the metal before turning and walking through the ruins of the church he'd parked the truck in. Slipping through a wall, he arrived in a room full of rotting wooden pews, closing his eyes and silently walking down the aisle in between them all. He arrived at the alter, not caring as his figure began to fade.

"Goodbye..."

Beauty comes as beauty goes.

* * *

**End Note: **So... yep. My take on Mello. o-o Hope you enjoyed~

~FragilePuzzle


End file.
